


You Make Me Hard

by writingramblr



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alley Blow Jobs, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Compliant, Crack Treated Seriously, Dubiously Consensual Blow Jobs, Emotional Manipulation, Exactly What It Says on the Tin, Facials, M/M, Smut, THERES A TAG OMG, could be grindelwald or not, mild sugar daddying, up to you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-28
Updated: 2017-01-28
Packaged: 2018-09-20 11:54:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9489962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingramblr/pseuds/writingramblr
Summary: Mister Graves needs a favor from his boy.





	

**Author's Note:**

> no plot just porn.
> 
> inspired by tags on a post: originally on tumblr here http://sozdanie-gryazi-eternal.tumblr.com/post/156406296165/

“All you have to do is find the child, and you will be honored among wizards. Everyone will know your name, as you stand by my side and finally get the recognition you deserve. I promise.”

“Mister Graves, I don’t think I can do it. There’s just too many of them…”

“Tell me, how can I possibly motivate you? My boy, you know I need you… to do this for me.”

Credence shivered and tried to ignore how close the man was standing, breath hot against his skin, usually freezing, but always seemed to warm exponentially in the man’s presence.

There was a hand on his arm, burning through the thin fabric of his jacket, and Mister Graves was looming closer still, lips almost touching his ear,

“Do you like that? Being needed for more than menial tasks?”

Credence found himself nodding, suddenly finding it hard to think, beyond focusing on the feather light graze of fingers over his arm, and he shivered.

“Oh. You do. Credence… what if I told you I need you to do something for me, to help me with something _else_?”

The hand lifted from his arm to grasp the back of his neck, a thumb pressed under his ear, and it felt strong enough to break him, to mold him into whatever the man wanted.

He nodded again.

“It’s such a problem you see. Every time I see you, just the sight of those wide and innocent eyes of yours, along with that pretty pink mouth, _you make me hard,_ my boy.”

Credence startled, and looked over at Mister Graves in shock,

“Wha-what? Mister Graves, sir, you can’t mean…”

“Why not? You don’t think you’re appealing? The fact that you’re a no-maj only makes it that much sweeter, forbidden things are tempting… just ask Eve.”

The man was smirking, Credence could tell, because he could feel the man’s lips quirking against his skin, pressing to his jaw line and over to his ear, before drawing a yelp from him as sharp teeth nipped over the soft tissue.

“Why don’t you kneel for me?”

The hand on his neck tightened, and was already half guiding him down as he forced his knees to unlock, and almost fell, barely catching himself on his newly healed palms.

When he looked up at Mister Graves, he could feel the man’s thumb rubbing soothingly against his neck, while his other fingers remained holding him, almost possessively.

“What should I do?”

Mister Graves clicked his tongue, and waved a hand, and Credence’s eyes were instantly drawn to the way his coat opened slightly, and how the man’s trousers were now undoing themselves, seemingly pulling his hand to the opening with a magnetic force.

“Feel that? That’s what _you_ do to me.”

Credence gulped, and could feel his heart pounding, nearly deafening in his ears, as he blinked and then moved his palm slightly over the lump he could feel beneath just one layer of fabric now, the man’s underwear.

“Go on, touch it.”

Credence stammered,

“I am.”

Mister Graves sounded amused,

“Pull it out.”

Credence’s eyes did widen at that, and he obeyed, not wanting to make the man angry or upset with him, finding that the man’s hardness was intimidating, far bigger than he’d expected.

“Don’t worry; I suspect it’ll fit, with practice, all the way down your throat.”

Before Credence could question him, the man was putting his other hand on himself, and guiding it to brush over his mouth, shocking him further when he could feel something slick and wet, and he dared to part them, letting his tongue slide over his bottom lip.

“For today, you can just focus on learning on the method, not the skill.”

Credence couldn’t think of anything to say, even as his knees were beginning to hurt against the rough and unforgiving cobblestones of the alleyway.

Mister Graves took his hand off the back of his neck and brought it around to cup his cheek, coaxing him to open his mouth further with a gentle pressure to his jaw.

“Just hold still my boy.”

Credence did as he was told, and he simply watched as Mister Graves started to stroke himself, slow at first, but with clear experience, and he could feel his groin twitch in response to the idea. What if the man told him to touch himself, or asked to? He wasn’t sure what he would do. He’d never done anything, never been allowed to.

All he had was fervent dreams that made him wake with no memory of what had caused the intense heat and a full body tingling, like when a foot fell asleep and then came back with thousands of invisible needles stabbing it.

“You’re so good for me, you know that?”

Credence didn’t know how to respond to that, so he merely blinked.

Mister Graves chuckled, but he sounded slightly out of breath,

“You don’t know I suppose. You’ve got people all around you telling you otherwise, but believe me. I’m the one who’s going to set you free. Show you how much potential you really have. Hmm?”

Credence nodded at that, and licked his lips, somewhat involuntarily.

The man groaned, and his hand sped up, the sound of skin on skin obscene and only serving to make the ache inside Credence build further, until he was leaning close, almost trying to chase the man’s cock, desperate to put his mouth on it, to help him, to _please_ him.

“Don’t worry about that right now, I changed my mind. I’m going to paint your pretty face.”

Credence didn’t know what he meant, until the man’s hand shifted from his cheek to cover his eyes, and there was something warm and wet landing on his mouth and chin, and when Mister Graves dropped his hand, he realized with a start it had come from the man’s cock.

“Oh yes, very nice indeed. You look gorgeous like this.”

Credence wasn’t sure how that was possible, but the man waved a hand, putting his pants back together and his coat refastened itself.

He shivered slightly, as he could feel whatever was on his face start to cool, and become sticky.

“Well I suppose we can’t have you going home looking like that, now can we?”

A hand gripped his jaw and slipped a bit when he shook his head, and Mister Graves smirked,

“Too bad though. Then everyone would know you weren’t free for the taking, that you belonged to someone. You are mine, aren’t you Credence?”

He nodded, and the man rubbed a thumb over his slicked lips, pressing it between them until it was on his tongue, and he could taste bitterness on the man’s hand.

“Good boy.”

He snapped his fingers, and Credence felt his face instantly dry, and tingling.

 _Magic_.

“Up you get.”

Credence did so, somewhat shakily, and he couldn’t help stumbling into the man, whose strong arms caught him, and then he was pressing his face into his neck, drawing a deep and heady breath filled with the man’s cologne.

“Whoa there. Careful now.”

The man was chuckling slightly again, and Credence shivered as a hand gripped his arm, kneading it slowly.

“You think you’re okay to walk now?”

Credence nodded, somewhat reluctant.

“When will I see you again?”

Mister Graves seemed to think about it, before letting go of him with a hand to slip inside his coat, and pulled out a pendant on a black cord.

“Use this. When you’ve found the child, touch the symbol, and I will know, and I will come to you. All right?”

Credence nodded,

“Thank you Mister Graves.”

“Think nothing of it, my boy. It’s a trifle. Not even real silver.”

Credence gripped it so hard he could feel it digging into his skin and he relished the pain.

“Make me proud.”

Mister Graves was pulling away and Credence hated himself for chasing after the touch, but the man was gone in a few steps, vanishing with a crack like a gunshot.


End file.
